


after this drop, get better

by booooin



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Twins, Gen, Japanese Culture, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Metafandom, Metafiction, Twincest, Twins, canon discussion, fandom discussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 15:45:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8407426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booooin/pseuds/booooin
Summary: Twins!AU. Ryou was always the functional twin next to Bakura's crazy. Character dynamics: bipolar!Bakura, control freak!Ryou, twincest if you want it to beDiscussion of mental illness in canon and fandom if you want it to be





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is my fan reaction to Yugioh's specific treatment of mental illness. Often, in this series, mental illness is pathologicalized as a deviant persona that can be fought against in canon and fetishized in fandom.
> 
> The narrative that holds the series together (Yuugi's persistence, strength, ability to keep functional through turmoil, and acknowledgment of social ties as important) is a voice that, to me, has the specific purpose of reacting against mental illness, which many of the villains are depicted as having. It's a type of narrative I use both for and against myself on my worst days.
> 
> Yugioh fandom, especially tendershipping and thiefshipping, becomes a place where definitions of trauma and illness are talked about, subverted, and sexualized – something I think is fantastic.

All that was in the fridge were two limes, already squeezed. When Ryou threw them away, juice stuck to his hands. The kitchen smelled like old garbage from a pot full of burnt sauce on the stove.

After putting the pot in the sink to soak, Ryou shouted, “I'll be right back. I'm going to get you some groceries.” Twenty minutes later he filled the fridge up with milk, tomatoes, and eggs, throwing a loaf of bread on the counter.

Bakura snuck up behind him. “I can make us some dinner.”

“I can't stay.”

After Ryou scrubbed the ruined pot as best he could, he fried tomatoes and eggs for Bakura quickly before rushing home. He had a deadline the next day he wasn't even close to making.

 

* * *

 

When they were kids, everyone knew that Bakura was the mean twin and Ryou was the nice one. What they didn't realize was that Ryou would put spiders in people's pencil bags when they weren't looking and hide their shoes in the dumpster during gym class.

“It's bullshit,” Bakura always told him, “that no one sees how wicked you really are.”

Ryou would hide behind a book. “Get better at not getting caught.”

At least once a week, Bakura was cleaning classrooms poorly as punishment. Once it was established that he had a propensity for trouble it never mattered whose fault a fight was or why Bakura had snuck away from a class for the fourteenth time – it was all just part of his nature as a troubled youth. The more Bakura got in trouble, the more he did to deserve it.

It wasn't until they were almost done with high school and Bakura had spent an entire semester barely showing up to class and mostly in his room playing PC games that the school pulled all sorts of alarms. Bakura reacted by dropping out.

“Really, fuck that place,” he'd raged. “It doesn't matter, does it? What the hell is the difference when I've got three misdemeanors and am stuck in junior high math, Ryou? You think they're really invested in my _future_ or do they really just want to keep their numbers low? Hell, you're a top student and you know there's no way I could ever catch up to _anything_.” Then he'd thrown a marker that almost hit Ryou on the leg.

 

* * *

 

When Ryou was in college Bakura got a diagnosis. Bipolar disorder – it sounded too familiar to be threatening. Everyone knew someone who was bipolar and handled their shit, didn't they?

“That's really not that big of a deal,” Ryou said when Bakura told him.

On the other side of the phone line Bakura sounded as bored as he was with the result. “I know. They just want to call it something,”

“How's work?”

“I quit last week. That's why I went to the shrink.”

Ryou had been scrolling through social media and was watching a video of a cat massaging a parrot. “What are you going to do for money?”

“I don't know. Find another job?” said Bakura fiercely sarcastic. “Listen, I'll talk to you later, okay?”

Ryou hummed in disapproval.

 

* * *

 

“When's graduation?” Bakura had asked when Ryou was close to finishing school.

“Sometime in May. I'll invite you to the Facebook event if I don't flunk out.” A part time job at a crafts store meant that Ryou worked too late into the night on essays due the next day.

“But you're still the good twin, aren't you? Did we grow out of that?”

“When I have time to be.”

“What are you going to do after?”

Ryou had majored in history knowing he wanted another degree in Museum Studies and, consequentially, accumulate heavy debt.

“Move in with me. You'll save money, I'll save money. I could help you out so you can study,” offered Bakura.

Bakura's intentions were good and living with him was a roller coaster ride that was always taking off when you didn't expect it and trapped you beneath a billion seat belts until your arms were numb.

When Bakura was manic he did well at work and got up early just to walk instead of taking the bus to blow off steam. He would call Ryou in the middle of the night drunk and high, laughing about how he wouldn't get any sleep before his job, and make big life decisions, like moving to another country or becoming infamous for something stupid to use the publicity to get rich quick.

After, Ryou would come home to his brother curled up in dirty sheets dehydrated and claiming that his phone was dead. Sometimes Bakura would stay like this for days and sometimes weeks.

“Drink water,” Ryou would tell him every time, playing the sane twin to Bakura's crazy, “Smoke less, and eat something.” After he got sick of hearing himself say the same things over and over again, Ryou would just cuddle up with Bakura to watch mecha anime until he couldn't stay up anymore.

 

* * *

 

Ryou had gotten his first job archiving at a small town historical center a few hours outside of Domino City and rented a small place a fifteen minute drive to work. Living in a suburb where he didn't know anyone simplified life. He kept his home as meticulous as the documents his job entrusted him with.

The first week he was there, Ryou hadn't known what to do with his time now that he had no one to clean up after. He'd barely had anything in the empty apartment at that point.

“Hey, so I just found out I owe the library $296.50 because I checked out some French culinary manual five years ago,” Bakura said when he called Ryou right in the middle of spacing out by arranging tea candles on his windowsill. “Have you seen this book? Apparently, librarians moonlight as debt collectors because these bitches don't take no for an answer. And this _will_ affect my credit.”

 

* * *

 

After Ryou spent a year at the historical center, a job at the Domino City Museum had opened up. He was an ideal candidate, a fresh graduate with a year's experience familiar with the institution at hand. The job was nuts. Leaving the office at 8:00 PM was considered early and his manager was an asshole who noticed when someone walked in five minutes after nine.

One night, instead of going home, Ryou waited for Bakura in front of their old apartment.

“Yo,” said Bakura, hitting him on the head with a takeout container in a bag when he got home. The bar he worked at closed at 2:00 AM. “It's cold.”

“I have to get up in four hours,” said Ryou, standing up

Bakura contemplated him. “Let's go out.”

Barely anything was open so Bakura drove them in Ryou's car to the red light district where love motels were tucked away beneath neon signs and Harujuku teenagers clustered smoking Seven Stars cigarettes.

“What are we doing here?” asked Ryou.

“I don't know. What do you want to do? You want to buy a woman?” Bakura winked. “My treat.”

Ryou people watched, considering.

“A man?”

Ryou checked his phone. “I have to get up in three hours.”

Taking the takeout container that had ended up in Ryou's lap, Bakura opened it, ate a mouthful of noodles, and handed it back to Ryou. “Your job is shitty. You should probably quit.”

All Ryou did was turn the radio to some j-rock oldies station and finish the lo mein. That night, he hummed BOOWY and Ziggy as Bakura ate through his gas on an empty highway and didn't even think twice about going to bed as the sun crept light yellow through their bedroom window.

 


End file.
